


Broken Thrones

by dJhonnie14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon!Castiel, M/M, prince!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dJhonnie14/pseuds/dJhonnie14
Summary: AU- When Prince Dean is sent to rescue Princess Anna from her tower, he gets more than he bargained for when he runs into the dragon guarding the castle.





	Broken Thrones

Like all the heroes before him, he was sent to cross deserts and scale mountains, slay the dragon and rescue the princess from her imprisonment.

In actuality it was much simpler.

In reality it was much more complicated.

The princess wasn’t a desert and a mountain range away. She was just across the border in the neighboring kingdom. That was the prime reason he was put on the damn quest anyway. He didn’t want to keep a wife, but Princess Anna had come of age and none of the other suitors had survived the journey through the dragon’s lair. So, they sent Dean. Dean who had declined any and all marriage propositions put to him, but who was in the best position to actually face the dragon guarding the girl.

That was the problem with these sorts of deals. Once they gave the princess up for enforced captivity, the parents couldn’t reclaim the girl if all the suitors happened to fail. Never mind the whole abandoning your child to a giant fire-breathing lizard thing.

So, Dean was forced onto a so called noble steed bearing the family crest and a load of provisions (his shining armor was strapped to the side opposite the food. He sure as hell wasn’t wearing it in the summer heat.) and sent on his weary way to certain death, or at the very least, severe disfigurement at the hands of the dragon.

All so his parents could rule over a bit more land.

That was okay though. The day was pleasant and warm now that he had rid himself of the metal suit. A sweet breeze fluttered through the trees and brushed across the tips of the blades of grass along the road. The company was a bit lacking; Baby the Horse didn’t say much, only snuffled his way down the road. The scenery about made up for it.

Dean didn’t get much of a chance to enjoy being outside. The only time he ever saw sunlight anymore was during his daily training sessions with the palace guards, and his minimal free-time was spent avoiding the rest of his family. His parents chased him across the palace grounds harping on about duty and responsibility and “Really now, dear, that last girl’s family was quite well off. It would’ve been a wise move for the family.” His younger sister, “Jo. Don't ever call me Joann Beth,” wasn’t any better. The cook had made the mistake of showing her where the wine cellar was hidden just behind the spice rack, and now she could be found guzzling the stuff “to cope with them, Deanny. They just don’t understand,” or hanging around the kitchen girl.

So, Dean enjoyed the quiet ride through the country and tried not to think too hard about what waited for him at the end.

Unfortunately, not thinking proved impossible.

His mind wandered across all the ways this could end badly. The dragon could kill him on sight. Or it could keep him to torture. Or it could skin him alive and pop him whole into its mouth. Or it could rip him limb from limb. Was the princess even alive?

Or…

Or Dean would be successful. He’d rescue Anna and swing them down onto Baby to ride off into the sunset. Then he’d have to keep her. There’d be a wedding and new responsibilities and another person ready to nag at him. And there’d be the wedding night.

He knew that other princes messed around before their betrothal. The guards did it. Even Jo managed to do it. But Dean just couldn’t. Plenty of servants had made eyes and seemed willing, but Dean wasn’t all that interested. He knew that Prince Adam from their eastern ally had a slew of prostitutes trailing behind him from local taverns, and while that was easy enough, it seemed like far too much work. And while all the girls Dean knew were pretty enough, he just couldn’t seem to become interested. The stable boys on the other hand…. On days like this, the boys would strip off their tunics to work the horses and muck out the stables. Their golden skin would ripple across taut muscles as they moved the hay and rubbed down the horses. What Dean wouldn’t give to rub down their glistening chests….

And now he was on his way to get a wife.

Spectacular.

Dean followed the recently beaten in path deeper into the wood that covered most of the kingdom and further from his further from his happy, solitary life. Even nature seemed to agree with his mood. As Baby clomped closer to the dragon’s lair, the sky grew darker, hazy overcast painting the blue canvas. Sunlight became sparser as tree cover became thicker, and the air chilled until Dean stopped to don his armor for the meager warmth it offered.

The world darkened around him until he wasn’t entirely sure when the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind had warped into chilling howls that wrapped around scorched husks of life that had once been ancient oak trees.

He leaned into Baby and urged the horse forward. The fear leaching into his bones alongside the cold begged him to turn away, but that wasn’t really a helpful thought, so he ignored it.

He began to think he could finally see the shape of a castle, a darker outline against the surrounding shadows, when his luck, if he had any, soured.

The howls that he had initially written off as the wind whistling between the dead trees got louder, the cries growing ever nearer until Dean finally began to listen to fear gnawing at the edges of his mind.

He struggled against the panic that joined the fear, pushing Baby forward. The animal fought him, terrified whinnies reaching Dean’s ears, even as he dug his heels into the horse’s sides.

The lines of the castle on the horizon were becoming more defined. Dean aimed for the straight shot and prayed.

Later, Dean might be slightly disappointed that he didn’t get a good look at the castle, while being chased by what was no doubt a pack of hungry wolves, however, he found he didn’t mind all that much. In fact, once he was safely on the other side of a heavy wooden door, he felt nothing but relief.

The room he stumbled into was the sort of grand entry hall his mother coveted, or once had been. Now, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. Tapestries were torn, shredded charred. The candles in the chandelier far above his head were melted to stubs. The plush carpeting was riddled with burnt patches. Bits of the railings were knocked out, Dean could only assume violently by the piles of debris scattered below. The only thing, Dean thought, that was missing was a display of human skulls. Though perhaps that could be found deeper into the castle.

Recalling what Jo had said about princesses being kept in towers, “the higher the better, Deanny. It’s a phallic symbol. Men get off on it,” Dean headed toward the stairs.

The fire damage increased as he ventured into the heart of the castle.

His halting steps lead him straight into the dragon’s keep.

Shards of broken glass littered the ground, quickly being overwhelmed by bits of gold and chunks of precious gems. Mounds of coins spilled out from the center of the room, decorated by the occasional plated decanter, suit of armor or decorative piece of weaponry.

Dean kept on the outside of the hoard, weaving delicately around the support columns. Each step was deliberate, placed to avoid the attention of the dragon for as long as possible. Even the slightest creak of his armor set another shot of adrenaline through his heart.

He knew he should retreat, should find his way to Princess Anna’s tower and whisk her away without ever alerting the dragon to his presence. Judging by the collection of armor in the dragon’s hoard, the previous heroes all tried to slay the beast before absconding with the girl. Dean was smart enough to avoid their mistakes, right?

Apparently not. As he neared the center of the room, he managed to kick his foot out, knocking over a stack of coins. The dragon turned to face him.

The first thing Dean noticed was the tail. It was the color of moonlight on the sea, the wispy blue of an evening sky, tapping against the gold with a metallic tink-tink, and curled around the dragon’s bare feet. Dean followed the line of tanned skin up past delicate ankles and along the defined lines of toned calves. Heavy cloth breeches hugged firm thighs and hung from angular hips. Plains of skin appeared once more above the waist of the garment. The lines of the dragon’s abdomen were marred – no, highlighted – by flashes of scales, scattered clusters of iridescence decorating the canvas of soft skin, twinkling in the firelight between the deepest shades of midnight and the milkiest whites of moonlight.

The scales trickled over the dragon’s biceps and across the lines of its shoulders where shadows danced from collarbone to strong, stubbled jaw line, painting dark pictures. They crawled up past pouted lips, reflecting light onto the bright white tips of fangs that rested against plump flesh. More scales brushed past sharp cheekbones and into the dragon’s hairline. Wild dark hair brushed against its forehead like ink spilling along parchment and nested around deep black horns.

Dean’s eye dropped back down to lock gazes with the dragon for just a moment, just long enough to marvel at the strange beauty of its eyes, glowing like north stars, before he realized the danger he’d tripped into.

The dragon’s pupils dilated, its wings sprung from its back, and Dean stumbled backward. His fighting instinct surged for just a moment before flight overcame it with a lurch of his heart.   
Dean struggled to regain his footing, dashing toward the door he’d come through. Shifting piles of gold coins didn’t make the best terrain for fleeing, though, and Dean fell into a support column.

He turned as he fell, head crashing back against the stone, one hand falling to the hilt of his sword, the other rising to protect his face from the expected onslaught.

It never came.

He peeked out at the dragon-man to find his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t draw your sword,” the dragon said, his raspy baritone echoing over Dean’s racing heart.

Dean paused, peering beneath his raised arm . “Sorry, what?”

“Your sword,” the dragon repeated. “You didn’t draw your sword. You barged into a dragon’s keep and you didn’t draw your weapon? What sort of champion are you?” Dean gaped just a bit, arm falling toward his chest. “Well?” The dragon was moving toward him with slow steps that barely met the floor. His wings were still out and he hovered ever so slightly above the ground. Dean shuffled back against the column, forcing himself up straighter, trying to keep the distance.

“I- well, I-, Hey! I do just fine,” Dean stuttered, pushing himself up so he was seated rather than sprawled.

The dragon huffed, a curl of smoke puffing from his nostrils. “Clearly.” He paused, before stating, “You’re not here to slay me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”

“Then, wha- Oh, the girl.” He waved an impatient hand. “You can’t have her. No, no. Unless you brought something to bargain with?”

“What?”

“Well, she’s part of my keep. A treasure, A princess. You don’t just expect me to give up something of such value,” the dragon said lightly.

It was Dean’s turn to be confused. “So, what? You just trade?”

“Barter of course. Equal or greater value. Nobody’s come close yet, not that they’ve tried. Apparently it’s simpler to wave a blade about.” The dragon sighed, “Let’s get on with this then.”

“What?”

“Your death,” the beast deadpanned.

Dean leapt up, his hand finally going to the hilt of his sword, finally drawing it from its sheath.“Oh nuh-uh. I’m not just gonna let you kill me. Nope, we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

The dragon’s fangs lengthened and his pupils retracted to thin lines as he bit out, “You plan to fight me?” The dragon looked incredulous. “Humans,” he sighed.

Dean fell into fighting stance and brandished his weapon, torchlight glinting off the blade, reflecting the piles of gold surrounding them. 

The dragon rolled his wide shoulders back, and in the space of one of Dean’s leaping, stuttering heart beats, the dragon’s hand had brushed his from the hilt of his sword, swung the blade up and blew out a bright flame. The steel of the blade shone molten red, and he bent it beyond recognition. He nodded, satisfied, and settled his feet on the ground.

Dean would forever blame the whole fearing for his life thing for what happened next. 

“I’m a prince!” Dean declared, a sheepish smile plastered to his face, heart lodged in his throat.

Silence.

“So?” the dragon asked, head tilted, eyes narrowed

“You said you’d barter. Equal or greater value. I’m a prince.”

“No,” the dragon hummed. “You haven’t begun begging yet, and I haven’t seen a single tear.”

Dean huffed, a laugh or the rough exhale of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he couldn’t decide. “Well, I am. Prince Dean of Lawrence. I’ve got the coat of arms and everything.” He gestured to the insignia embossed in his armor. “What do you say, me for the girl?”

Silence fell again, more fraught with tension than before, the fragile sort of silence that made hearts skip beats.

The dragon hummed. “You’d stay here? Willingly?”

Dean nodded.

“And the girl?” the dragon asked.

“She can take my horse and go home. Nobody knows I’m here. No more champions coming to slay you and collect her…” Dean hedged.

The dragon’s head tilted once more as he considered the prince. After a long moment during which Dean wondered at the depths of his own foolishness, the dragon murmured, “I accept.”

“Right. Good. Uh… What do I call you?”

“Castiel. My name is Castiel.”

Somehow, Dean was alive, and as he let his gaze linger upon the muscled form of his new captor, he thought, maybe, it might be a good captivity.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first foray into writing supernatural fanfic, so every comment and kudos is appreciated. 
> 
> I do have some ideas about expanding this into a full verse, but I’m also happy with where this is at. Let me know what you think.


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